


No Such Thing As Bad Press

by ddagent



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Domestic Fluff, Engagement, F/M, Interviews, Kissing, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:53:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25994770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ddagent/pseuds/ddagent
Summary: Actor Jaime Lannister has one job for his interview with Good Morning, Westeros: to promote his latest movie – and to, maybe, not reveal his engagement to former co-star, Brienne Tarth.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 87
Kudos: 364





	No Such Thing As Bad Press

**Author's Note:**

> Firstly, thank you to Anon who gave me the prompt that inspired this fic: "Celebrity AU Prompt! Jaime is a celebrity on a talk show (I’m unsure as to who would be the host, maybe someone like Melisandre?) to talk about his new movie, Oathkeeper. However, he falls onto a tangent and spends a lot of the interview gushing about his wife, Brienne Tarth (who is either a model/an actress as well?) Xx" It's not quite what you asked for, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. 
> 
> Also, thank you to sdwolfpup for letting me know that I was on the right track; remuslovestonks and resthefuture for their support and enthusiasm. And to the lovely people I sprinted against on the discord that got this story done. 
> 
> Happy reading!

An incessant beeping disturbed Jaime Lannister’s slumber. A mumbled _do you know who I am,_ followed by a bray of laughter and a shove to his shoulder, brought him back to the land of the living. Jaime blinked against the daylight streaming in through the glass panels; his picturesque view of the snow-capped trees only rivalled by the woman lying in bed beside him. He rolled over and was met by the ocean; eyes so blue he could happily drown. An engagement ring the same colour would finish the job.

Lifting Brienne’s hand to his lips, he kissed her knuckles one by one before lingering at the ring she refused to remove. “Good morning.”

“Morning.” She beamed. “I think that’s your phone, by the way.”

Groaning, Jaime kept one hand holding his beloved’s before reaching out towards the weirwood bedside table for his phone. _Yep,_ it was his all right. A string of messages and missed calls from his agent-slash-brother, reminding him of his interview for _Good Morning, Westeros_ in – _fuck_ – twenty minutes. Quickly estimating how much time he would need to be presentable for Westeros’ premiere breakfast show, Jaime determined he could spend two more minutes in bed with his fiancée.

Arms encircling Brienne, he pulled her flush against his chest and left a string of kisses along her exposed collarbone. Brienne batted his arm but melted against him all the same. “You’ll be late.”

“I’ll have that _rolled out of bed_ look that’s very sexy right now.” Jaime nibbled on his favourite spot where her neck met her shoulder. Brienne gasped. “Honestly, I could just do the interview like this. Have you ever known me _not_ to look sexy?”

Brienne snorted; Jaime eased away, mock affronted by his love’s derision. But, then, his fiancée had seen him at his worst: arrogant and rude; injured and frightened; drunk and stupid. And she still planned to marry him anyway. Still kissed him anyway: hand cradling his cheek; eyes soft in the morning light. “Tyrion will never forgive you if you do GMW in your pyjamas.”

He huffed out a long-suffering sigh. “You’re right. I’ll go shave.”

“No!” Brienne clutched his forearm; her fingers digging into the flesh. A fine pink blush began to crawl up her neckline; staining her cheeks. “ _I mean_ —” But it was too late. She’d already shown her hand. Brienne _liked_ his snowed-in beard. She liked the flecks of grey running through it; the way it felt against her thighs when he went down on her. Jaime _grinned._ Brienne, embarrassed by her admission, fled out of their bed towards the direction of the kitchen. “I need coffee.”

“Not my beard, then?”

“Piss off!”

Laughing, Jaime laid back against the pillows and sighed; content. Even with his upcoming interview and his brother’s incessant texting, he was _happy._ Brienne made him _happy._ After a long road filled with career lows and bad relationships, he finally felt satisfied. Enough that he wasn’t risking life or limb to helicopter to the Free Cities like many of his fellow actors; the stars of today and tomorrow determined to avoid the worst winter in recent history. Instead, he was glad to be snowed-in with Brienne, enjoying the calm and tranquillity the daily blizzards brought. 

After all, when the press realised that movie star Jaime Lannister was getting hitched, all seven hells would break loose.

With the smell of warm coffee drifting in from the kitchen, Jaime finally abandoned their bed. Padding across the heated floors to the en suite, he skipped the shower (walk-in, waterfall, ideal for shower sex) and the clawfoot tub (big enough for two) in favour of getting _just_ presentable enough to promote his latest movie. He washed his face; left the beard. He opted for a white t-shirt and jeans; skipping his standard three-piece suit. No lion cufflinks today; no crimson tie, either. Just sexy casual. He did slip on his glasses as he grabbed his phone, needing to reply to Tyrion’s messages lest his brother send out a SWAT team to make sure he was out of bed – and his pyjamas. 

> **Tyrion:** Jaime. Jaime. JAIME!
> 
> _Stop shouting. I’m up._
> 
> _Tyrion is writing…_

As he waited for his brother’s reply, Jaime slipped around the kitchen island, pressed a kiss to Brienne’s cheek, and took his coffee from her outstretched hands. The mug had been a gift from Brienne last Sevenmas: white porcelain, whiskers, and the pun _You Had Me At Meow._ It was one of his most treasured possessions, and it sat in his cupboard alongside Brienne’s Tarth FC mug. Most of his peers wouldn’t understand his desire to keep the mug, or his chipped set of cartoon Ser Dunk glasses. But after a lifetime spent in hotels and trailers, it was nice to have _things._ And when those things were beside _Brienne’s_ things, they were even better.

“Mmm. This is good. Dornish blend?”

Brienne nodded. “Got them with the groceries last week. Do you want some toast before you go on? A bagel? Or will crumbs ruin your—” She waved a hand over his basic apparel. “— _hot at home_ look.”

“I prefer sexy casual.”

“I’m sure you do.” Brienne took a sip of her coffee. “GMW shouldn’t take too long; we can grab breakfast afterwards. Are you setting up in the office?” Jaime nodded. “All right. I’ll wait in the library.”

Jaime’s phone began to buzz. Tyrion was calling. He texted his brother in lieu of answering. “You don’t have to. I don’t see why you can’t just sit there out of frame. I’m sure Tyrion would prefer it,” he said, looking up from his phone to smile at Brienne. “He always likes someone around to give me the signal in case I say something stupid.”

Brienne smirked, and Jaime could see her physically resist from offering a sarcastic reply. Instead, she swallowed and said, “Maybe it would be best if I was in another room. I wouldn’t want anyone to get the wrong idea.”

“You mean, people would think that we were _together_?” Jaime lifted the hand holding her engagement ring. “Why ever would they think that?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I truly don’t.”

She huffed. “We still haven’t discussed how we plan to announce our engagement. What it’ll mean outside… _this._ ” They _had_ been enjoying their snowed-in bubble. _“_ No one even knows yet. About _us._ ”

No one – not the press, not their former co-stars, not even most of their family – knew that Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth were dating. To most people, they were simply the leads of _Oathkeeper:_ a highly rated historical fantasy show that had lasted seven seasons and won them a string of awards. They’d started off as enemies, had become reluctant friends around filming season three, and by the time they were promoting the final season, Jaime couldn’t imagine not seeing her every day. Which is why he proposed they went for coffee. Then Brienne suggested dinner. Museums. Theatre. A weekend trip to the Free Cities.

And now, eight years after he’d tried to get Brienne fired from ‘his’ show, Jaime was going to marry her.

“They’ll have to find out eventually,” Jaime said, taking their coffee mugs and depositing them on the marble countertops. He then filled his arms with Brienne, lifting on his toes to press a light kiss to her lips. “Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but people will inevitably find out when we start wearing wedding rings in public.”

“Or when I’m pictured with the largest sapphire in Westeros on my finger.”

Jaime frowned. “I thought you _liked_ the ring.”

“I _love_ the ring. I love _you._ I’m just not used to my relationships being in the public eye. I’m not the type of person to announce my engagement on Quip or Caw or Ravenbook.”

He nodded and held Brienne closer. “I understand. And despite my picture being in every gossip magazine from the Wall to Sunspear, I like my privacy too. Honestly, this is just a stupid puff piece to promote my new film. We’ll talk a little about the show; nothing more. But I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide away in another room. You’re my partner. Stay with me.”

Brienne’s teeth toyed with her bottom lip before she made the slightest of nods. “All right. _Just_ so you don’t do something stupid.”

He grinned. “Of course.”

It was at that point that their landline started to ring. As only Tyrion and the pizza parlour brave enough to deliver to a house overlooking the Haunted Forest had the number, Jaime knew who it was when he picked up. “ _Yes,_ Tyrion, I’m getting set up now.”

Rolling his eyes at his brother’s chastisement, he left Brienne to get dressed while Jaime retreated to the study. Like their bedroom, a single glass panel covered the whole wall; overlooking snowy trees and mountain tops. Two antique desks looked out onto the view: one covered in storyboards and proposals for Jaime’s directorial debut; the other with an old-fashioned typewriter for the screenplay Brienne hoped to write during the winter. As Jaime began setting up the laptop, Brienne returned to help him with the connection to the studio in King’s Landing. Jaime let Brienne handle the technical bits and, instead, began fiddling with what would be his background on the call.

After he moved his second Lann award into frame, Brienne snorted; shaking her head fondly. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And yet, you love me.”

“Tried not to, and here we are.” They shared a long, lingering look, then. Unlike his last serious relationship, Jaime knew _exactly_ how much he was loved. Knew how long Brienne had tried to resist her feelings; how much their close contact had affected her. Jaime knew how she tasted long before she’d said _I love you,_ yet, at the time, it had felt like the same thing. Like then, Brienne now brushed platinum blonde hair behind her ear before wrapping her arms around herself; protecting herself from the intensity of what they shared. Even now. Honestly, Jaime didn’t think he could love her more. “I think you’re ready.”

“Great. Kiss for luck?”

A mottled flush covering her cheeks; Brienne grabbed a handful of his white t-shirt and placed her lips on his. She then gave him a playful shove backwards as the connection on the other end sprung to life. Jaime settled himself into the leather armchair in front of the laptop and adjusted the microphone levels as required by the technician at the GMW studio. His fiancée settled herself into the matching chair by the window. Long legs curled against her, Brienne rested her coffee mug on her knee and watched him with a smile so warm Jaime would honestly think it was the middle of the summer.

“ _You ready, Mister Lannister?”_

“Absolutely.” Jaime ran a hand through his hair, earning an amused snort from his fiancée, before turning his charm towards the camera. “Ready when you are.”

Across the study, Brienne hummed the familiar bars to the _Good Morning, Westeros_ intro. The logo appeared on screen, and then Jaime was given a somewhat grainy look at the GMW studio and its anchor, Melara Hetherspoon. She was pretty and perky, as all morning show anchors should be. She was also rather _handsy_ and enamoured with Jaime, which was why he had so readily agreed to an interview while being several hundred miles away. “ _Good morning, Jaime, welcome to the show._ ”

“Good morning, Melara; always lovely to be on.”

She tittered; flushing already. Behind the laptop, Brienne rolled her eyes. She’d known him for over eight years, now; she’d witnessed all manner of women – and men – throw themselves at him. “ _I have to say, being snowed in_ certainly _suits you. You are looking_ extremely _handsome, Jaime. I mean, I thought the last time we had you on you were…”_ Melara trailed off, trying to compose herself but failing miserably. It didn’t help when Jaime tried to diffuse the awkwardness with a friendly smile.

“Did she actually just squeak?” mumbled Brienne across the study, smirking into the rim of her coffee mug.

Jaime flashed her a quick warning glare. He then focussed back on the live feed and tried to get the interview back on track: he was, after all, here for one simple reason. “It’s been good to have some time out of the gym; be at home, read a book or watch a new series. My last film, the one I did after _Oathkeeper,_ was quite an intensive shoot. But it was all worth it, as I’m sure you’ll see from the finished product when it’s released at the end of this week.”

“ _Yes,_ yes, _of course. Your new film,_ Dead End, _comes out Friday. It’s described as a psychological thriller and is sure to_ thrill _our audiences while they’re stuck at home waiting for this winter to end. Could you tell us a little about the plot?”_

Jaime offered Melara his mega-watt smile. “Of course! So, the film—”

After that, Jaime went on auto-pilot. He’d been acting professionally since he was fifteen years old: he knew how to work a press interview; knew how to sell a film that couldn’t sell itself. And _Dead End certainly_ couldn’t sell itself. It was a poorly written psychological thriller with a ‘twist’ ending that they’d had to reshoot several times, directed by a man who understood little of the craft. It was the first project he’d agreed to do after _Oathkeeper_ had finished; something _completely_ different from playing Ser Arthur Westford for seven years. Thankfully, the early winter had put paid to a lot of his promotion for the film.

Time that could be better spent with Brienne. She was smiling at him from across the study as he tried to explain the plot without giving away too many spoilers – and without admitting to his fans and the general public that they should avoid it at all costs. “So, _Dead End_ is due to be released on demand this Friday; definitely check it out.”

“ _Oh, don’t worry, Jaime, I_ will. _And, as well as_ Dead End _being released this week, the last season of_ Oathkeeper _has come to Webflix for the very first time. I cannot believe it’s been a_ year _since the show ended!”_

Jaime nodded along. “I can’t quite believe it either. It was such a huge part of my life; the longest project I’ve been involved in since _The Dragon King_ when I first started out. I do miss it.”

Melara beamed. “ _Do you see any of your old castmates? A lot of shows during this_ dreadful _winter are doing reunions and cast talks over Dash or Scry. Is there anything similar on the horizon for the cast of_ Oathkeeper?”

“I see a couple of the cast quite regularly.” His gaze darted towards the corner of the study, and his co-lead wearing his _Blackfish_ Riverlands tour t-shirt. “But there hasn’t been any talk of a reunion yet. I know a few people are over in the Free Cities filming; Margaery Tyrell is completing her directorial debut in Lys right now. I’ll have to get back to you about that reunion.”

Melara kept smiling as she prepared her next question. Jaime – and Brienne – prepared themselves as well. Every post-show interview, even for _completely_ unrelated projects, had included this question. “ _Now, Jaime, there were quite a few fans who weren’t happy with the finale of_ Oathkeeper _. In that very last episode, your character, Ser Arthur, died at the Battle of the Long Night protecting Lady Alysanne.”_

“Ser Alysanne,” Jaime interjected. Brienne gave him a thumbs up.

“I–I’m sorry?”

“Earlier in that season, Ser Arthur knighted Alysanne. So, she’s _Ser Alysanne_ in that episode.” In place of a coffee cup to occupy his hands, Jaime ran them through his mop of dark-blonde hair. The action distracted Melara long enough to forget that he had corrected her live on air. “I don’t want to talk too much about the ending. After all, the final season has only just come out on Webflix. I don’t want to spoil anyone!”

Of course, the lukewarm response to _Oathkeeper’s_ finale had done the rounds on every news site from the North to Valyria. At the time, Jaime had been as professional as was required under his contract. But if he’d had _his_ way, Ser Arthur wouldn’t have died at all. Ser Petyr Crane, that red-headed Northern _twat,_ would have died instead. And, rather than _Tormund Giantsbane_ getting a wedding scene and a _happy ever after_ montage with Brienne and their children, it would have been Jaime. Jaime’s hands being bound with Brienne’s. Jaime and Brienne’s children frolicking in a meadow meant to represent her beloved Tarth. But, _instead,_ he’d died thirty minutes in. At least he’d won an Empire Award for it.

“ _Of course; of course. No spoilers here! I will say, though, that I thought it was wonderful that Ser Arthur, after being shunned at the beginning of the series, found comradeship with_ Ser _Alysanne.”_

“Comradeship.” From behind the laptop, Brienne put down her coffee mug and waved both hands in his direction. She’d suffered through more than a few rants of his aimed at people who thought there was nothing more to Arthur and Alysanne’s connection than _friendship._ And she would have to suffer through another one today. But _after_ his interview was over. “The beauty of Arthur and Alysanne’s relationship is that there are so many facets to it. As you can imagine, it was a dream to play.”

“ _You and Brienne Tarth, your co-lead on the show, certainly seemed to enjoy filming it.”_

Jaime smiled wistfully, recalling the months, _years,_ they had spent on set together. At the end of season two, when their characters _finally_ met after several near-misses, Jaime had loathed the prospect of an entire season by her side. By the time they wrapped on season three, he’d been pushing for re-writes so they could share more scenes together. Brienne was the finest actress he had ever worked with. And he had no problem telling her so.

“Honestly, I could not have asked for a better co-lead than Brienne Tarth. She’s completely dedicated to her craft: always bettering herself, always ensuring she was ready for the _extensive_ fight scenes. I honestly loved working with her, and would do so again in a heartbeat.”

“ _And your co-star, Margaery—”_

Jaime interrupted again. “You know, the great thing about working with Brienne is that she makes _you_ a better actor. Before I started on _Oathkeeper,_ I’d done a whole raft of films where, _personally,_ I felt I was phoning in my performance.” The Jay Hill franchise immediately came to mind. “But every scene I shared with Brienne made me want to up my game. I honestly don’t think I would have won those last two Empire awards without her pushing me. I just hope that one of our future projects lines up.” He laughed. “She’s one of those _rare_ people that you could work with for the rest of your life.”

His gaze once again shifted behind the laptop to Brienne, staring at him with soft blue eyes. Her teeth tugged at her trembling bottom lip, and Jaime resisted every urge to cross the room and _be_ with her. His words would have to do until the interview was over. _Not long now._

“ _Speaking of your co-lead, there’s rumours she’ll be joining Tormund Giantsbane in his new film, A Wild Romance._ ”

Jaime cleared his throat and tried not to shake his head so hard it fell off. “No, no, that’s not true.” Tormund _had_ asked Brienne if she was interested in co-starring with him. She had politely declined in favour of working on her own project. “Actually, Brienne’s taking a brief hiatus from acting and working on her own screenplay. She lets me read pages every now and again; I just hope there’s something in there for me.”

He and Melara shared a laugh. “ _Well, it’s good to hear that Brienne is keeping busy during this winter. There have been rumours – and I’m not sure whether you’ll be able to confirm, deny, or give us a cheeky hint – that your co-star is actually snowed-in up North with Tormund. I’m sure fans would love to see Alysanne and Peter back up North again.”_

“No, no, _no._ Brienne isn’t staying with Tormund.”

Melara actually seemed disappointed. Oh, _Gods,_ she wasn’t one of those people that ‘shipped’ Brienne and Tormund, was she? The pair of them were constantly photographed at events and on-set; the press and fans online trying to force some _huge_ love conspiracy between them. They’d done the same with him, and whichever of his co-stars looked most aesthetically pleasing, for years. No one saw the lingering looks he’d given Brienne at awards shows; no one picked up on the lengthy speeches he gave describing Brienne’s work ethic and talent.

No one ever noticed. They all thought Brienne wasn’t in the same league as him, just like they thought Alysanne wasn’t _attractive_ enough for Arthur. Well, fuck that. Arthur and Alysanne might not have had their chance at wedded bliss, but Jaime and Brienne did. “Actually, Melara, Brienne is staying with me. I’ve got a place up North, and we’ve been snowed-in quite nicely.”

Melara’s mouth made an _o_ shape. It was mirrored by Brienne’s own, and the slam of her coffee mug against her desk. The _Good Morning, Westeros_ anchor, however, recovered quickly. “That is _wonderful;_ I’m sure fans will be delighted to hear that you two are braving the winter out together. Like Arthur and Alysanne at the Long Night!”

“Except hopefully no one will stab me this time!”

Brienne glared. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

Melara looked around the _Good Morning, Westeros_ studio as if a certain angle of her neck could make her see round the corners of Jaime’s study. _“Is that her?”_

“It… _is,_ ” Jaime said, begging forgiveness with his eyes. He was just _tired_ of magazines and gossip sites speculating about Brienne’s Quip feed: what pictures she was liking; who she was following. But he’d also comforted her when the speculation and attention grew too much. The last thing she wanted – or deserved – was their relationship announced on a morning breakfast show. So: “She’s actually on a call with her agent at the moment; I don’t want to give _too_ much away, but I think it’s about a very successful superhero franchise that can’t be named…”

In the studio, Melara gasped. From behind his laptop, his beloved offered him a warm smile. Her fingers were toying with her engagement ring; her brow furrowing as if she was troubled by something. And then she was joining him in frame, perching herself on the arm of his chair with her long limbs hanging over the side and her lips pressed against his cheek. Jaime froze until she whispered. “It’s alright as long as I’m with you. They have to find out sometime, right?”

“Right.”

So, while Melara Hetherspoon chatted animatedly with one of her co-anchors about just _who_ Brienne Tarth could be playing in the latest edition of the blockbuster franchise, she was missing perhaps the biggest celebrity story in _months._ Brienne settled herself against his front; Jaime’s arm wrapped around her waist. Her engagement ring – an eighteen-carat sapphire flanked by a silver moon and starburst, was on full display.

“ _Well, we are_ huge _fans here at the GMW studio. You heard it here first: Brienne Tarth is—”_ Melara turned back to the feed from Jaime and Brienne’s home in the North. “ _—engaged_!”

“She is!” Jaime grinned, planting a kiss to Brienne’s cheek. “Well, we are. You know, Melara, we’ve always been a huge fan of yours and GMW, so it just seemed right to announce our engagement on your show.”

On the screen, it looked as if Melara’s connection had frozen. But Jaime knew it was the confirmation that he, _Ice and Fire’s_ sexiest man seven years running _,_ was officially off the market. Brienne’s nose bumped his cheek; her fingers reaching up to run through his hair. “We fell in love on the set of _Oathkeeper,_ and now the final season’s on Webflix, we’re going to really enjoy re-watching the show and walking down memory lane.”

Oh, Tyrion would _love_ that. “And there’s good memories attached to _Dead End,_ as well. Not only was the story _so_ compelling—” He nudged Brienne in the ribs to stop her laughter: they’d ran lines together over Scry, she knew how dreadful it was. “—but also, we had our fifth date while I was filming and I realised she was the one.”

Melara _finally_ gathered herself together as their time ran out. Her voice was strained as she ended their segment: “ _Thank you to you both._ Dead End _is released on demand this Friday; all seven seasons of_ Oathkeeper _are now available on Webflix. Thank you, Jaime; thank you, Brienne. And…_ congratulations _, I guess.”_

After a pause, the connection went dead; the small light of the web-cam fading. Jaime sagged against the leather armchair; glad it was over. “Congratulations, ‘I guess’. What was that?”

Brienne snorted. “Oh, come off it; you _know_ Melara is half in love with you. They all are.”

“I guess they’ll all have to be disappointed, then,” Jaime said, reaching for Brienne and pulling her into his lap. He brushed her blonde hair aside so he could press his lips to the length of her neck; lifting her hand to admire her ring in the light. “We don’t get to choose who we love. But if we did, it would be you a thousand times over.”

Brienne nestled her head into the crook of his neck, and they sat there until the incessant ringing of Jaime’s phones grew too much. He left his beloved to respond to his brother who – unlike after most of Jaime’s press interviews – was actually _happy_ with his performance on _Good Morning, Westeros._ People were already looking forward to the film to spot the location of his and Brienne’s fifth date and to see if his performance was in any way affected by his new romance. Tyrion had even received a call from Webflix asking him and Brienne to read for a romantic comedy.

“ _So, when do you think you can fly back to King’s Landing?”_

Outside, the snow had begun to fall thick and fast. Brienne was now humming in the kitchen while toasting bagels; her notepad for new ideas out and ready. Jaime smiled, overwhelmed by the domesticity of it all, and shook his head. “Not for a while. Ask them to send the pages; we can send them a tape from here.”

A pause. “ _Jaime, the potential here is really something. You and Brienne—”_

“—have earned the right to be in our bubble for a little while longer.” He joined his fiancée in the kitchen; chuckling as Brienne burnt her fingers on the freshly toasted bagel. She wielded a butter knife in his direction; he picked up a dirty spoon from their coffee in response. “Don’t worry, I’m sure we can keep the fans interested until we get back to civilisation.”

At that, Jaime ended the call and turned off his phone. He reached for Brienne’s, turned hers off too, and put them both in the refrigerator. Leaving their landline off the hook, Jaime escorted Brienne and their bagels to the window. While they ate, it felt like they were the only two people in the world. Jaime was going to make that feeling last for as long as possible.

He did, however, concede to posting a picture of Brienne’s engagement ring on his Quip account. #itsyours #itwillalwaysbeyours 


End file.
